


a night like this

by thedrugdealingshark



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, look dean's super duper jealous alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 13:51:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11464917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedrugdealingshark/pseuds/thedrugdealingshark
Summary: Dean finds solace in Bray, yet again.





	a night like this

**Author's Note:**

> *set during the Dean & Baron feud, and the Bray & Randy feud (around March 2017), obviously.

It’s pure coincidence, Dean likes to think. It’s because his mind is so set, so focused on Baron Corbin, and he’s so distracted and he feels like he’s losing it because he can’t seem to get Corbin where he wants him.

Maybe it’s because he’s actually starting to believe that maybe Corbin does have the ability to take away his title. 

Either way, he’s totally fucked, because it’s like he’s opening up a new window and a whole new light of unresolved problems is just shining through. Stumbling into Bray Wyatt backstage is probably the harshest light he could ever think of. A beacon, a distraction. 

Bray seems distant, unfocused, and he pulls on a mask that maybe he knows Dean can see right through. Dean can’t remember who found who, but a mocking comment about how Bray seems to be stalking him in right on the tip of his tongue, he just can’t bring himself to say it. 

Instead, he nods, asks Bray how he is. He lets himself believe it’s more of a conversational filler, rather than him actually caring about Bray’s well-being. 

Bray laughs, as if he can hear Dean’s internal dispute with himself. “Now, that fate has brought our paths together, yet again,” Dean notices how the smile Bray wears doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m _wonderful_ , pet.” 

“’S good to hear,” Dean says, casual, his hands stuffed down his jean pockets. Paranoia creeps up his spine at the thought that Corbin might be lurking in the shadows, waiting to attack. Or worse, learning new information that Dean isn’t too eager for him to know. 

Bray must catch the way Dean glances around them, because he’s chuckling again. The same breathless, uneasy laugh that reminds Dean that maybe Bray’s just as fucked up with his own current affairs as Dean is, himself. “You expecting someone?” 

“No,” Dean answers, almost too quickly. He turns his full attention on Bray to prove it. “Why? Are you?” 

_Orton, perhaps?_

“Only you, dove,” Bray says. The mere tone of his voice crawls under Dean’s skin. “I could smell your desperation from a mile away.” 

“Yeah, did _Abigail_ tell you I was coming?” Maybe it’s too soon, and maybe Dean’s not looking to pick a fight with Bray, but he can’t help but let him be the target of some of the Corbin-induced anger and frustration that’s been eating away at him. 

Bray blinks, unfazed. “She did.” 

\-- 

Bray leads him by the hand in the shadows of the arena parking lot. He leads him right over to Dean’s rental, without having to be told which one it is. Dean doesn’t give it a second thought, he doesn’t know why he didn’t automatically expect it. 

He lets Bray open the passenger side door for him, gently closing it when Dean’s safely inside. He lets Bray assume position as driver, because it’s another thing he should’ve seen coming. He lets Bray rest a warm hand on his thigh the entire ride to his hotel. 

They both need tonight. Dean gets a distraction and in return, he’s helping Bray forget as well. It’s like charity or something. Dean knows the feeling of being fucked over by someone he trusted. 

He’d never lay his trust in someone like Randy Orton, but maybe Bray saw something different in him. He’s not one to judge. 

Bray doesn’t say a word, and Dean can tell he’s thinking about Orton, and it leaves him with this dull, aching feeling of jealousy gnawing at the pit of his stomach. It’s something to beat himself up over later, because he’s too tired to analyze his own feelings, so he keeps thinking about Bray thinking about Orton and he, too, doesn’t say a word. 

\-- 

“Is Orton a better fuck than I am?” 

Bray’s kissing at the side of his jaw, the curtains are pulled, and when Dean opens his eyes he can’t see shit. Somehow, when the question falls from Dean’s lips, and he feels Bray hesitate against him, he can imagine the look on Bray’s face. 

The question’s a mistake he didn’t mean to make, but it’s something that’s been bouncing around in his head all night. 

“I thought you had no interest in what I did with my spare time, dove,” 

Dean can remember telling Bray that again and again when he’s searching for a snarky comment to make during their several, reoccurring encounters. Now, and even then, he isn’t sure which one of them he was trying to convince. 

“’M not interested,” Dean turns his head to kiss at Bray’s mouth, as if maybe doing so will make Bray forget the subject was even brought up. But, still, he’d like an answer. “just curious.” 

“What if I were to say he was?” 

That feeling is back, pulsating like a rotten tooth. It almost scares Dean this time. “You’d be lying.” 

It’s not fair, really, for Dean to move on from Bray and in return, expect Bray to want nobody else but him. But, it’s that way things should be, it’s the most natural course of things, and Dean’s never been one for rational reasoning. 

Bray’s chuckle, that all knowing laugh, is what makes the feeling almost unbearable. 

\-- 

Dean’s hands are steady, pressed down firmly on the mattress on either side of Bray’s head. He can’t see the way Bray’s looking at him, but he can feel his fingers digging into his hips as he grinds down into Bray’s thrusts. 

Dean wishes he could get out of his head. 

Dean wishes he knew if Bray told Randy he loved him the way Bray tells him. If Bray told him how breathtaking he was like Bray tells him. 

It makes Dean double over, and smash his lips into Bray’s once again, like he’s trying to transfer the images into Bray’s own mind, maybe in some hopes of getting an answer. Bray kisses him back like nothing’s changed, like they’re still like they were, before Orton or Corbin even entered the picture. 

It’s that thought, the mere flash of a memory, that helps keep the flames inside Dean’s stomach at bay for just a little while longer.


End file.
